We’re All Connected: Reflections on the New Year

As the last sunset of 2012 painted the darkening sky an ever-richer shade of orange I sat by the ocean, my feet sinking deep into the sand. It was a beautiful evening; one for which I was lucky enough to find myself on the southern coast of Sri Lanka. The sea swept towards the shore in rhythmic waves, crashing onto the sand and then gurgling outwards in a wash of sound.

Watching the year’s end evolve into a new beginning, I found myself deeply reflective. I was thinking not only of my own experiences over the past year, but more so of the inflection point our world is at right now: the immense pressures that strain our ecological and social systems across continents, and yet the opportunities and insights for humanity to capture from these very challenges. It felt, somehow, as if inner was mirroring outer. The Mayan’s referred to 2012 as the end of the world, but ends are always new beginnings. It seemed pretty apt, therefore, to discover that apocalypse and revelation are described with the same word in Ancient Greek.

I looked down the beach in the direction of what was now becoming a reddish-gold ball of liquid light that seeped towards us across the sand. A palm tree sloped in the direction of the ocean, silhouetted against the portrait-like sky, and the wild sea air tousled my hair. I breathed it all in with wonder, looking out towards the horizon, whose very edges reminded me of the curve of the Earth upon which I stood. I was at once a part of something so much larger than myself, watching, sensing; communicating with all that surrounded me from the heart.

As night fell, the celebrations began beneath a bright silvery moon. Wonderful people, delicious food and heart-felt conversations. It was an evening filled with promise, hope and a renewed sense of the possible. Brilliant fireworks coloured the sky as we drank champagne, laughed and danced barefoot under the stars. As the clocks passed midnight and the spirit of the New Year filled us, we ran to the beach to plunge into the inky sea. Some of the more confident swimmers dived out beyond the waves to let themselves be carried beneath the stars.

All was blissful until it dawned on us. It had been half an hour and all were back in. Yet two friends, one of whom I had come to Sri Lanka with, were nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, like a knife cutting through the happiness of only a moment ago, fear set in. We couldn’t see out beyond the waves and the rip tides were strong. With no light and unheard above the crashing shoreline, there was no means of telling if they were ok.

More time passed. I knew they’d had a lot to drink. We alerted the hotel manager who was instantly concerned, telling us that the coast guard would take 45 minutes to get there. There was no way, if they were in trouble or carried away by strong currents that they would be easy to find now, let alone then!

Suddenly, the worst scenarios started to run through my mind at breakneck speed and a dark veil encroached, colouring everything it touched with a heavy blackness. How devastating it would be to lose two friends from a moment of such bliss. What a waste of life! What an irreconcilable loss it would be to all those who love them. How my life and the lives of those with whom I was dancing just a moment ago would change if anything happened to these two. I felt responsible. I had agreed to Sri Lanka. If I hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here.

Surely this couldn’t be happening? But I knew that these things do happen. Life is unpredictable, and what a stupid way it would be to go. What a terrible waste. I started to panic. We checked the rooms. Of course they weren’t there. Twenty more minutes passed. Surely something was up now? People had only gone in for a quick dip. I began to process what could be my worst nightmare. Nothing would ever be the same again. How could I function? How could anything have meaning? In that moment, everything felt completely, utterly bleak.

As we walked back towards the shore, another member of the group came running towards us and said they had found them! My heart jumped for joy. “Are you sure??” I asked, at least two or three times, not daring to believe this until I was sure it was true. “Yes, yes!” he said, about ten people have told me so. My heart exploded with happiness. As quickly as it has descended, the thick black veil evaporated. My life as I knew it returned to me in all its beautiful colours and I felt absolutely elated. We had been given the gift of our own lives back along with theirs, and let off lightly. All was fine, more than fine actually, because we were reminded how valuable is each moment, and how precious is each individual in our lives. I saw them walking towards us, and after whacking my friend pretty hard for the fright, wrapped him up with a giant hug, and gratitude for their both being ok.

Most of all, though, I found myself reflecting on how deeply interconnected we all are. Whatever our state may be within, we are all affected not only by what is taking place within us, but outside us too. None of us are isolated units, and the sooner we recognize this the better. My life would have been permanently affected by the loss of two dear friends so tragically. While we can never control these things in life, the lesson for me was, first of all, to be doubly grateful for all that I have, but also to acknowledge the fact that none of us exist in isolation. None of us feel in isolation, either. This truth reflects not only a potential vulnerability, but a strength. To surround ourselves with those who are able to nourish, inspire and support us has the power to transform. Furthermore, in the same way that all without us can affect us so deeply, each of us has the potential to affect change outside ourselves through that very same connectedness.

Indeed, to humbly recognise our interconnectedness is a necessity. As Chief Seattle said in his letter to the President of the United States back in 1855, “All things are connected, like the blood that unites one family. Whatever man does to the web of life, he does to himself”.

It was such a lesson at a beautifully poignant time. A gentle lesson that ended up being all the more joyful for having that which was feared lost returned. It is my deepest wish that we may each continue to remember our interconnectedness in all that we do in life, for never have we needed to acknowledge this profound truth more than today.